"Oh, to be as beautiful as Euphemia!" sighs plain Jane Hart when she joins her sister at No.67 for the Season, then Lord Tregarthan might notice her... as she has noticed him and forever lost her heart. And while it is Euphemia's fate to flit her way through balls and into the arms of a marquis, Jane's is to stay at home... until the Downstairs staff transform the plain Miss into the Season's sensation and send her waltzing...
There is a hint of Armageddon in the air. According to the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (recorded, thankfully, in 1655, before she blew up her entire village and all its inhabitants, who had gathered to watch her burn), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact.